


Something from Nothing

by moonlit_gay



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Asexual Romance, Fluff, M/M, Pretty much all the angels ig?, Slow Burn, War in Heaven AU, ace friendly romance, crowley is the fallen Archangel Raphael AU, gets a bit sad at the end, ill add tags as I️ go lmao, soft love story, some demons too probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-28 13:38:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19395256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonlit_gay/pseuds/moonlit_gay
Summary: In which God weeps, a Cherub rebels, Heaven is divided and an Archangel and a Principality face an uncertain future, one that could result in loss greater than either of them could possibly imagine.((Based off a tumblr AU by @wartimelover))





	1. In the Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> I’m in the process of rewriting this, please be patient if I️ don’t update regularly. Thanks :)

(From the perspective of God.)

"In the beginning, God created the Heaven and the Earth." 

That sentence at the very least was correct. After that, it gets a bit...dodgy. Even then, there's a lot that those ten words don't tell you. Despite being an all-knowing, all-powerful, almighty being, creating everything from jack shit is not as easy as it may sound.

I remember when I created something from nothing. I had so many ideas in my head of what I was going to create, yet somehow I knew exactly what it was going to be, what it was supposed to be. 

I can still feel the numbing chill of the Infinite Nothingness; that felt like bone-chilling cold, blazing fire on my skin and like a simple slight breeze all at the same time that surrounded me, made up everything. I reached out my finger, poked the Nothingness as one would poke at a piano key, and just like that, bang. There was something. The very beginning of everything else that was to follow. Everything that was exploded into being. 

Well, most of it. Some of it. More like raw materials. Matter, chemicals, rocks, gas and dust, and finally some light. Darkness gets old really quick. Thanks, me. 

The common belief is that as soon as I created light I immediately got to work on the Earth. This belief is incorrect and, frankly, very self centered. 

First, I created time. Units of time that from then on would represent how long since everything began and how much longer there is left until the end. The steady march of time began then and there, and it is still continuing on, even as I give this account and even as you read it.

Then, I got to work on everything, including the Earth. Multitasking is a gift, and if anyone were able to excel at it, it would be me. I created stars from burning hot gases I heated up myself, and they're probably one of my favorite things I've made. I started arranging galaxies. I created countless planets, comets and asteroids. I took matter in my hands and told it to go as far as it could and to spread everything on its way. 

I also created my children. Hand-crafted every soul. I made them a place to stay until everything was ready for them. I called it Heaven. It was beautiful in a different way than the universe was beautiful. I created a vast, shimmering white and cream-colored stone and starlight city that stretched on and on for miles and gleamed in the light of the closest stars and galaxies. A vast expanse of wide cobblestone streets, smooth stone walls, glass ceilings and giant columns that held up the weight of it all. I placed it right at the edge of Everything and Nothing. This was to be my home, and the home of my heavenly host. I began to fill Heaven up. I created a Metatron, who would be my scribe and spokesperson. I created my Archangels, my Seraphim, my Cherubim, lordships, virtues, authorities, principalities and my angels. I created for a little while longer before deciding to call it a day and go back to Heaven. Upon my return, I welcomed the angels and my children. I enlisted the aid of my angels to help me in completing the universe, to get it ready in time for my children to go down to Earth and gain bodies; for the life I was about to put forth into the already vast universe. I gave them their specific duties and let them get to work. And being content with the work I had done, I went and took a nap. Yes, even all-knowing, all-powerful, almighty beings enjoy naps. 

When I awoke, I set out again to finish what I'd started. I asked my host to help me hang the stars in the sky, to help me create more planets with life as diverse and individual as each of the souls I’d created. I had the Cherubims, Seraphim and Lordships help me maintain Heaven. I had angels help me create the souls' bodies and I assigned each soul a Guardian Angel. We created so much so quickly. The sheer vastness, care and beauty that went into all that we created is something that words simply can’t encompass. Some humans now will ask me when they pray, 'God, are you proud of your creations?' And I am. I'm so very proud. 

***

Yes, I remember the day I presented the Divine Plan. I was very careful in whom I selected to be there. There was Metatron, my scribe, the Seraphim, the Archangels, Jesus, a few of the Lordships and the Cherubim, which included Lucifer. 

In my heart I knew exactly what was going to happen next, I knew where all this was going. I knew how everything would begin and end. In order for everything to work out, he had to rebel. And as a result, I knew I'd have to cast him and his followers out. I knew there'd be a bloody rebellion and the loss would be great. I knew all of this and it broke my heart. I loved each of my creations dearly, especially my angels and my souls. I knew I’d have to cast them out. I could feel their pain, a pain they’d all be damned to feel for the rest of eternity. I could feel it, and it almost make me sick thinking that I’d have to do that to them. I knew what I had to do and yet I was hoping I wouldn't have to. I hoped that, beyond all possible reason I'd be wrong. Lucifer wouldn't rebel, I wouldn't have to cast anyone out, I could have all my angels with me in heaven. But, in order for everything to go forward, it must happen. For the Divine Plan to work, for humanity to be able to inhabit the earth, for the purpose of everything I've created thus far, it needs to happen.

***

I felt a warm, gentle breeze scurry past me. My eyes closed, I took a deep breath. A sharp inhale, followed by a pause, and then a drawn out exhale. I truly loved the body I created for myself. It felt good to be able to breathe. I opened my eyes. We were gathered in an open pavilion, large pillars forming a perfect circle around us. Above us was a glass dome, with an intricate copper frame weaving downwards from the center. The glass exposed us to the universe; the stars, freshly hung by angels, smiled contently down on us. Outside, ivy draped over the edge of the roof and cascaded about a quarter of the way to the ground, vines clung to the pillars for stability. The perfectly smooth floor beneath us was arranged in an elaborate circular pattern, much reflecting the copper spokes of the glass ceiling directly above. A swell of pride fluttered in my chest. This place is so full of life and beauty, and I made it. This feeling helped calm the growing dread of the meeting ahead of me. 

Seated in a circle, with me at the head, was everyone I’d called to hear of the Divine Plan firsthand. Metatron was, as always, at my right. Jesus was sitting beside him. On my left were the Seraphim. Next to them sat the seven Archangels: Michael, Sariel, Uriel, Raphael, Gabriel, Raguel, and Remiel, and next to them sat the Cherubim and the Lordships. Directly across from me was Lucifer.

Anticipation hung in the air like thick fog on an early autumn morning. I was excited to make those. I took another deep breath, then nodded to Metatron.

He stood up slowly, letting out a strained yet ever proper “Right,” as he got out of his seat. 

His croaky, stern voice boomed and resonated off the dome as he spoke.

“The Almighty has asked me to speak on Her behalf. The purpose behind this meeting is to discuss what will henceforth be known as the Divine Plan. It is the purpose behind the creation of everything. As you all know, preparations have already begun. Souls have been created, as well as bodies to carry them. Planets and stars are being put into the Universe as we speak,” he gestured towards the stars that already filled the sky over our heads.

“The Almighty has decided that, following the creation of the planet Earth, two humans will be sent down to live in The Garden of Eden. There they will remain for 7 days before the fall. After that, more will follow. The Earth will be populated and life on that planet will continue for 6,000 years. Beginning with the fall of Adam, human beings will be granted the gift of choice. Throughout their life, they will make choices that will determine whether or not they are able to return here after death.”

As Metatron spoke, I eyed Lucifer. I could see the questions swirl around in his head like an uneasy sea as it breaks against a rocky shore; the outrage and unrest fill his eyes with restlessness. As if cued by a bell, he shot up from his seat. 

“Almighty, if I may, I don’t understand. I don’t understand how you can put forth so much effort into humankind’s creation, how you can give them such a good life in heaven and then not guarantee their return!” He cried. 

So it begins. 

“Lucifer, sit down!” Metatron warned. 

“No,” protested Lucifer, “I feel this needs to be said.”

“Sit. Down.” Insisted Metatron. 

The other angels muttered to one another, and just like that, one of the Lordships’ hands flew up. “I agree, why can’t they be guaranteed to return? Why give them the ability to unknowingly make their lives miserable when we can keep them on the right path from the  
beginning?” 

“The Almighty has spoken, who are we to question her?” said Jesus, outraged. 

After that, the room erupted into chaos. Shouts arose from every corner of the room. My eyes darted from one angel to another, watching them argue back and forth while Metatron tried and failed to wrestle back control of the room. I could hear every single word said. Questioning me, defending me, siding with Lucifer and condemning anyone who did. 

If you couldn’t tell from the whole ‘flooding the Earth for 40 days and nights’ thing, that at the time was yet to happen, I have somewhat of a touchy temper. 

As I heard all of what was being said, as I could see the start of the thing I so desperately wished wouldn’t happen, I grew angry. Resentful. My breathing quickened; heavy and sharp. Before another thought could go through my head, I was standing up. 

“ENOUGH!” The words exploded out of me, shattering the glass above us and shaking the very foundations of Heaven. Rage burned a fire in my eyes. My flesh-and-bone body trembled. My nostrils flared and the tips of my ears and apples of my cheeks turned hot and blood red.

When the rumbling ceased, there was only silence. My fiery gaze fixed on Lucifer. 

“Lucifer,” I called through clenched teeth, “a word. Outside, if you’d be so kind. The rest of you are dismissed. We’ll continue this another time.”  
I waved them away and walked across the floor to the outside. To the right of where I’d been sitting and down a small set of stairs was a courtyard. Lucifer followed closely at the hem of my robes, walking like a child about to be told off by his parents, which he was most certainly was in that moment. 

Once in the courtyard, I whipped around to face him. 

“That was completely out of line.”

He looked up at me with a spark of defiance in his eyes. “I felt it needed to be said.”

My eyes widened. “I don’t care what you felt like needed saying! Your job is not to question. Your job, as a Cherubim, as an angel, is to follow orders. Have you forgotten about that?” 

“No, I haven’t. But I just couldn’t stay quiet. I couldn’t keep taking orders when I felt it was wrong. It’s cruel to put their own damnation into their hands without them knowing it, then punishing them when they unknowingly make the wrong choice! And I also think that you hide things from us, as if you can’t trust us. If you put more trust in me, I could help guide humanity and guarantee their return. But you don’t trust me, you only lie and keep things from all of us—“

“I hide things from you because that’s how it must be! I know more than you can possibly fathom. When I say it needs to be a certain way, then that’s how it needs to be! When I hide things from you, it’s not because I don’t trust you it’s because I need to let things run their course. If I interfere, then what needs to happen, won’t. You speak of trust, yet you can’t trust me enough to know what’s best!” 

“And who’s to say that you truly know what’s best for them?” He retorted. “With your plan, they would make choices and inevitably be affected by other people’s choices that puts them through difficult things, things that they never should have to go through. Do you truly think that’s the best option?” 

“Given the circumstances, yes. I know their choices could lead them away from heaven and from me, but no matter their decision and the decisions of those around them, they will go through hard things. They need to go through hard things. That’s how they are going to learn and develop. Heaven forbid they could actually grow from it, help themselves and others because of the hard situations those choices put them in.” I let a heavy sigh escape from my lips.

“There’s much I have yet to reveal,” I continued, “and I have my reasons. If you were in my position, if you had all this power and knowledge at your disposal, would you still make that choice? I’m faced with harder decisions than you could even think possible. Do you really want to play God?” I spoke in a low, dangerous voice. My chest ached. A lump was caught in my throat; as if all my anger, frustration, guilt and fear was bundled up in a neat package, waiting for its cue to come up and escape my mouth into the air around me.

“Yes, I would make that choice. While there’s the possibility they could learn, the fact that some are never going to return is for sure. They will learn, but if they can’t come back to heaven then what was the point of those lessons learned, of that time spent suffering? It’ll have been for nothing. But I suppose you’re just fine with that,” he hissed. 

He came towards me and didn’t stop until he was inches from my face.

“Tell me,” growled the Cherubim, “if they knew that you knew this and let it happen anyways, how much do you think they’d think you cared for them? Do you seriously think they’d love you after knowing that? Let me tell you this; they wouldn’t.” He turned and started towards the pavilion. I called after him and he stopped. 

“You are too ambitious, Lucifer. It will be your downfall.” 

He kept walking, marching up the steps leading into the pavilion and out of the courtyard. 

After he was out of my line of sight, I let it all go. The tears, the cries, the trembling sobs all came free. One of my arms wrapped tightly around my torso, fingers digging into my side; the other covering my eyes, with my thumb and middle finger rubbing my brow. My guilt came to the surface, and I let the feeling of utter betrayal and loss take me. 

The Bible will tell you many things about the beginning, but there’s much it left out. 

“In the beginning, God created the Heaven and the Earth; and God said ‘let there be light’.”

And in the beginning, God wept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crash course in angelic lore:  
> (note: all of these are for the most part super weird looking, especially the First Sphere angels. Google it and laugh for a bit.) 
> 
> Metatron: highest ranked being in heaven besides God themself. The scribe of God, the only being allowed to be in God’s presence on a constant basis. He’s really interesting, look more into him if you can. 
> 
> Archangels (capitalized (yes, there’s a distinction)): above the Seraphim but below Metatron. Most people know them. Guardian angels of nations, they deal with politics, economics, and military matters. There are seven. The four most famous and closest to God are Michael, Uriel, Gabriel and Raphael. The others names are Raguel, Remiel and Sariel. 
> 
> Seraphim: belong to the First Sphere. They are considered the highest angelic class besides the Archangels and the Metatron. They are responsible for taking care of God’s throne and praising him 24/7. Essentially God’s hype men. 
> 
> Cherubim: apart of the First Sphere. Guardians of the Tree of Life and God’s throne. Fucking terrifying. Satan was believed to be a Cherubim before he fell. 
> 
> First Sphere: any angels here are supposed to be heavenly servants to God. 
> 
> Lordships: belong to the Second Sphere. They’re responsible for keeping lower angels in line. They supposedly look like gorgeous humans.
> 
> Virtues: also belong to the second sphere. These angels are responsible for carrying out miracles and signs from heaven. 
> 
> Authorities: Second Sphere warrior angels. Keeping the cosmos in balance and fighting demons. Essentially the police force of Heaven. (They won’t be fighting demons until later, though.)
> 
> Second Sphere: describes as heavenly governors, subjecting matter to God’s will and helping to guide spirits to follow God’s will.
> 
> Principalities: Third Sphere angels. Their job is to follow orders given by higher ranking angels and deliver blessings. They’re credited with inspiring scientific and artistic breakthroughs.
> 
> Archangels (lowercase): Third Sphere, the second-lowest ranking angel. They’re called archangels to signify their status above the angel. 
> 
> Angel: Third Sphere. Lowest ranking angel. The most concerned with human beings. These are where the guardian angels are from. They’re made to serve humanity.
> 
> Third Sphere: serve as guides and heavenly messengers to humans.


	2. Gardens in Heaven and Other Nice and Quiet Meeting Places

There’s something so enamoring about starlight. The way it captivates you, keeps your neck craned upwards and eyes from blinking; as if it’s telling you a story and if you blink or look away, it’ll slip through your fingers and you’ll never catch it again. Perhaps it’s the way stars make all of us feel so small in such a large universe, yet so big and powerful. I daresay, it brings out the child in even the oldest soul. Maybe that’s what the angels intended when they were making them and hanging them in the sky. Maybe that’s what they felt when they held them in their hands, and all their childlike wonder soaked up into the stars and continues to captivate everyone else to this day

This was especially true for the Archangel Raphael, who was tasked with creating what humanity has since named the Butterfly Nebula. Held up by the strong, rhythmic beating of his wings, he dipped the end of a paintbrush in a bowl of gas and dust and took it to the blackness. Raphael delicately formed every wisp and fold in the gas clouds, every color flowing effortlessly into another until he was pleased with his work. Setting the bowl of gas and dust down on Nothing, he scooped up the contents of the bucket positioned next to it. Carefully cupping his hands, he shaped it into a ball and blew into it. It ignited into a shimmering, brilliant white light that made his face light up, both because of the magnificence of the light it gave off, and because of how satisfied he was with the star he’d just made. With hands steadier than a surgeon’s, the Archangel expertly set the star into its place. His wings carried him backwards to admire his work. He smiled with a light behind his eyes that could dazzle the brightest sun, running too-long fingers through the waves of his auburn hair as he chuckled contently to himself. Sure, he had some more stars to put every few dozen light years, but this was still worth the short break to admire. 

An indeterminable distance away in Heaven, a certain Principality was gazing up at those same stars, feeling the same infatuation, enchantment and wonder that billions of beings throughout the universe would experience for millennia to come. He himself was standing in a wonder of another kind. Heaven, in its multitudes, had anything any sensible city, town, village or otherwise would have; a library. Except, Heaven didn’t just have one, it had many, every single bit of knowledge ever published or conceived. There were libraries with catalogues of every single song ever sung, including those weird songs you would sing to yourself when you barely knew how to be a human. Every baseball card, every piece of technology, every how-to manual that came with your model airplane or Ikea dresser (which we all know you promptly threw away), every song, every map, every picture, every book ever written (including the three-page-long word vomit you wrote when you were eight. You thought it was going to be a best-seller. I’d love to know how you feel upon hearing it’s tucked somewhere in the Library in Heaven. Yes, it’s right next to your high school yearbook). This was where the angel Aziraphale was assigned. One might think, looking back over his time on Earth, that that’s where his love for knowledge came from. Perhaps that’s correct, but every hardy oak needed to start off as a seed.

At the time, he was supposed to be putting books on shelves. Yet there he stood, gaping out a window, watching the Archangels hard at work bringing light and color to the deep black of space. He couldn’t match names to distant faces, but he’d heard whispers that suggested it was the Archangels Gabriel and Raphael who were up there. They looked to be the size of plastic armymen from where Aziraphale was. The one with the red hair was painting a nebula, and the black and white haired one was creating a galaxy. Aziraphale quietly gasped as he watched him, bands of stardust snaking around his fingers as he directed them into place, extending out and orbiting a large bright ball. He watched as the Archangel set the last arm in its place and then sent it swirling into the night. Aziraphale’s attention turned towards the redhead. What he’d made was a work of art on its own. He admired the ring of earthy red that clung to the mix of light yellows and grey-blues, which faded into a spectacular white that only opals and clouds on a clear summer’s day seemed to have. Within each of these were oranges, greens, blues, and all of it came together to a line of the earthy red in the center. There were many things Aziraphale adored about the nebula, but his favorite thing was how it mimicked the shape of an angel. He didn’t yet know what a butterfly, but if he did, he’d compare it to that. He watched how tenderly the Archangel guided each stroke of the brush. 

“Aziraphale!” A pushy voice called out for the fifth time, at the loudest yet. Luckily for the voice, that was the one that finally registered in Aziraphale’s head. He jumped a bit, nearly dropping the book he was still holding. 

“Oh—er, my apologies, Zaphkiel. Got lost in my thoughts, I suppose,” Aziraphale nervously laughed. He turned his head to glance at the other (very irritated) angel. 

Zaphkiel frowned, cleared his throat while nodding to the mostly full cart of books that stood next to Aziraphale, then continued reading off a list through glasses that rested too far down his nose and checking off whatever boxes needed checking.

“Right,” he scrambled to put the book in his hand onto the shelf, grabbing another in his free hand. After putting three more onto the shelf, he allowed himself to glance out the window again. He laid eyes on the red haired Archangel and the nebula that looked like an angel and smiled.

***

On a park bench in a garden in Heaven, a certain Principality sat, quite pleased with himself. Book spread out in his hands, ankles crossed and swinging ever so slightly, he tried (very badly) to mask his joy. He sighed, humming a very satisfied ‘hmmm’ as he exhaled. He could hear songbirds chirping happily from the deciduous trees that grew to great heights around him. 

Another one of the unique and wonderful things about Heaven is that it has a park with every biome. Think of them like smaller-scale national parks. They had high mountains, a mix of deciduous, coniferous and rain forests, plains, beaches (both sandy and warm, and rocky and cold), deserts, middle of the ocean, rolling green hills. Whatever biome tickled your fancy, they had it. And every one of them miraculously had a nice park bench to sit on. Aziraphale much preferred green places that weren’t too hot or cold, and usually had decent weather for sitting and thinking or reading. If he was feeling adventurous, he might even go for a walk. 

So there he was, in the temperate deciduous biome park, happily reading and being blissfully unaware of the passage of time, as one does when enthralled in a good book. I’d love to tell you what he was reading, but I’m afraid none of you would know it. It hasn’t been published yet. 

A smooth voice interrupts Aziraphale mid sentence. 

“Mind ‘f I sit here?” He questioned tentatively.

Aziraphale buried his annoyance. “Of course,” he slid towards the end of the bench. 

“Thanks.”

“No worries whatsoever,” without looking over, he half-grinned out of a sense of obligation. 

Silence. Aziraphale attempted to find his spot on the page, and nearly had it when the stranger spoke again. 

“ ‘S lovely, innit?” 

“Yes, it is.”

“I mean, I spend all my time up there,” he said, pointing to the sky, “and don’t get me wrong, ‘s just beautiful up there, but I️ s’ppose this’s a different kind of beautiful, wouldn’t y’ say?” 

Aziraphale huffed, giving up on trying to find his spot again, set the book down and looked up at the canopy. “Yes, I think it is.” 

Something was familiar about this stranger. He looked over at him. 

He slouched with his legs spread out far in front of him, arms bent over the top of the bench. The thing that stuck out about him most was his red hair. It was—

“Raphael,” he extended his hand to Aziraphale. 

He took it, shaking firmly. “Aziraphale, pleased to meet you.”

Silence again. For a moment, Aziraphale considered returning to his book. Both of them hadn’t known exact other for very long, but they had the same exact thought in their heads at the exact same time

This conversation is way too stiff.

“Whaddya say we take a bit of a stroll, hm?” Raphael suggested after a while. Personally, he wanted to see more of this before heading back up to the stars. This place inspired a childlike curiosity in him, and he very badly wanted to have a look around. Also, Aziraphale seemed a nice person, and he’d hate to have bothered him only to give him a quickly withering conversation in return. 

“Sure, why not?”

With that, the two angels stood up and started forward. The Principality walked as properly as he did everything else, with his arms neatly holding his book to his chest; the Archangel striding loosely and carefree. Neither of them had a destination, but that was the best part of it. 

Surprisingly enough, taking a walk helped conversation go a little smoother. They talked for a good long while about many things, and agreed to meet there the next day. 

And so began the start of another beautiful thing. Not beautiful in the way that Heaven was,’or in the way that the stars and galaxies were, or even in the way that deciduous forests full of life were, but that didn’t mean it was any less inspiring. The first of many meetings on a park bench in a green place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place before the meeting in the first chapter. Forgot to clarify that. Thanks!


End file.
